The Writings of Eowyn
by shieldmaiden-of-rivendell
Summary: The chapter The Steward and the King from Eowyn's POV. FaramirxEowyn. Chapter one has been revised and Chapter two is up!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own LOTR.

These are the accounts of Éowyn lady of Rohan who has slain the Witch-King's stead and felled the Witch-King himself with the help of Master Meridoc the Hobbit.

Day (of writing) the First:

It is the seventh day since I was waked from my wounded sleep and conditions have not improved. I found this book in the bag I had brought from Rohan, for I left in haste and-not having time to pack grabbed my old journeying bag that I have not used childhood. In searching though its jumbled contents I found this hiding at the bottom. I did not recall what it was until I opened it, then I saw accounts of daily events written in my childish hand, they are not dated and grow shorter until stopping altogether.

Anyway, I have decided to write account of my imprisonment (tis not really but it feels quite like it especially when I could be out fighting the Shadow) to break the monotony of my 'healing'. I tell you I am healed excluding my left arm, my shield arm, but this is not good enough for the healers because my willingness to die in battle has them worried. I ask you what business is it of theirs, they being doctors of the body and not of the mind, is not every solider need in this hour of darkness whether a man or woman depressed or no? Yes I am called depressed and the Healers deem that until the sorrow has departed me, I shall remain in these chambers with my west facing window. Yes West! Not north or south where,with craning of my neck I could see east, but west from whence I came as a Rider and a direction I have grown to hate.

It is not as easy to write as I thought it would be because my beloved (did I mention broken?) shield arm is also my writing hand and my letters sprawl all over the pages. I swear I have spilled an ocean of ink trying to write this... I shall begin again tomorrow unless this idleness has gotten to my head and I have flung myself from my window. Not that I would die from the fall, the window is only ten feet from the ground.

-Éowyn

Day the Second:

News! I decided that I must leave this room and so I have. It happened in this manner: I asked one of the Healers to bring me other clothes, all I had was the robe I had been given and I thought to wear the garments I came in, but they were covered in Nazgul blood and my own and I decided if I am to go beg some man to let me to go to the Black Gate I must be dressed in normal, bloodless clothing. The woman whom I asked complied and without question for I think she fears me slightly as many of those here do. No one has talked to me the whole time I have been here except the Warden of the Healers and the Halfing Meriadoc. But I am getting off track.

I went to the Warden and demanded to speak to whomever is in charge of this White City, in a polite way as I could manage and looked sad and depressed as I could. It worked and he told me that the Steward of Gondor holds the keys to the city while the king is away. It seems he was hurt as well and resides in the same House that I am.

This Steward's name is Faramir and he was found in the garden surrounding this House.

I had not been out since my injury, nay I have not been allowed and it felt as though the sun was burning every inch of my skin but 'twas good to be somewhere that did not have four walls and a roof. The Lord Faramir walking on the far side of the garden and I could not see his face because he was looking east (verily I stared that direction also but could see no triumphant conquers or ragged conquered riding toward us.) Then the Warden called his name and he turned round and saw the two of us.

The Warden, whose presence I had not remembered until now said, "Lord Faramir, this is the Lady Éowyn of Rohan who rode with the king and was wounded, she is not yet healed but is not content and wishes to speak with the Steward of the city." He departed. The Steward then asked what it is that I desire and I grasped for the words I have been rehearsing all these seven day but they had fled me. What was I doing? I stumbled out "Lord, it is not that the conditions in this House are not the best, but I wished to be released from this House and ride to battle, for I do not desire to be healed but I wished earn death in battle. But," I continued, "The the battle goes on and I-," here I completely lost my nerve realizing that I must look mad and ill besides, with my sickly looking white skin and my hair all straggly and disarrayed.

The Steward however was very kind and replied that he too was prisoner of the Healers and would trust their counsel. "Lady," he told me "It is too late to ride to the Black Gate, you and I must endure the torture of waiting."

"But the Healers," I faltered and curse me, I was crying now, "Would have me lie abed for a week hence and my window does not look east."

He laughed but not at me and said, "Ah, east, where all our hopes have gone and where we all look to see if doom and despair shall fall upon us. Lady, I shall have that fixed."

Finally, good bye accursed window!

The Lord then asked me if I would not ease his worry by walking and speaking with him, if I agree to do this I shall have the liberty to go where I please in this House.

"Do not look to me for comfort," said I, "For I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle, I do not desire the speech of living men. Why would one as you want the company of Éowyn of Rohan?"

His answer startled me. It began by telling me that I was beautiful (and there I nearly marched out of that garden there and then, if he desires a beautiful companion then let one be sent for in the city, however I am glad I did not), and he said, "I saddens me to see you sorrowing, you shall easing my waiting and I shall ease your sorrow, or at least I shall try. Do you accept?"

Truely, I did not know how to answer this, it was the freedom to walk about set against the companionship of the living. The former won and I made answer, "Yes, Steward, I thank you." Then I curtsied and nearly ran from the room.

What have I gotten myself into?

Goodbye until morrow.

-Éowyn


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: LOTR is not mine.

Day the Third:

Yesterday's evening I could see from the window in my new chamber the Steward and Merry the Hobbit conversing in the garden. I was unsure if I was supposed to join them. Indeed when am I supposed to talk with this Steward? For the entirety of each day, or for only part of each? Furthermore what are we to speak of? I know nothing of him...perhaps I should ask the Warden.

Later...

More has happened, I departed my room and walked through the garden to the walls of this city. From the top I could see miles of Gondor but still no one rode from the east.

Someone called my name and I thought it would be followed by a command to get down from where I was. I turned round like a child caught in some mischief. There was Faramir looking rather amused. He bade me come and so I did.

"The walls of Minas Tirith," he began, "Many have stood where you did and watching with hope for some messenger bearing glad tidings. Ah, how many of this city would that a herald would come, but let us not speak of waiting! Shall I tell you what I have learned of you, lady?"

I replied the affirmative.

He said,"You are Éowyn, called by some White Lady. Your brother is Eomer, your uncle Theoden whose soul does no longer dwell on this earth. You know the Lord Aragorn-,"

I stiffened, did he know about my feelings for that person?

If he did there was no indication given and Faramir went on, "You transported the Halfling, to this city, where you fought under the guise of a man and a Rider."

Here his speech stopped and I thought, it seems that he knows most things about me why should we talk any further?

I thought I should reply to this so I began, "Steward-"

"Please, I ask you not to call me that."

"Why not?" I was curious.

"I have not yet taken up the Stewardship and I do not like to to be reminded that I will have to soon."

"By what name should I address you, then?"

"Just Faramir."

"I will if you will call me by my plain name also, and not affix the ridiculous prefix 'lady' before it."

"You disapprove of titles?"

"Not all. Only the ones that are simply given and not earned."

"A wise view."

Then we commenced walking around the garden. Our conversation turned to Roahn and what it is like. "It is colder than here and we are more given the arms and riding than the learning of knowledge."

"And the women are all fighters as you?"

"The women of Rohan prefer more than being left behind to worry and wait while the men ride to fight." I said proudly. "But no, not all of them are warriors."

I questioned Faramir about Gondor. "So, 'tis a kingless realm?"

"Yes, once it was ruled by the line of Númenor before they fell."

Intrigued, I asked how this came about, from what I had heard this race was strong, and proud with life spans thrice that of average men. Faramir then told me of how the Númerions, fearing death rebelled against the Valar (the Gods) and in punishment the isle of Númenor was drowned in the sea and few survived, the ones that did established kingdoms in Middle-earth eventually went in to hiding after their king was slain. So it has been for ages.

"Perhaps the same thing shall happen to Middle-earth, but it shall be the Shadow, not water that swallows it." I reflected.

"Or maybe we shall prevail against it and Isildur's heir shall return victorious from the Cormallen fields and Gondor will once more have king" he countered me. "But come let us speak no more of this. For the day is fair and the darkness has not yet fallen."

And we talked no more of despair but of pleasant things.

Well, that was our first conversation and 'twas not as bad as I feared. Though, on easing his worry I no not if I did well. Mayhap I should not have spoken so dismally of this kingdom and Middle-earth's doom?

Ah well, goodnight.

-Éowyn.


End file.
